


Tea Leaves and Choices

by Janewahay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Brittas Empire
Genre: Brittas Disasters (tm), Crossover, Divination, Headmaster Brittas, M/M, Teaching, Tessomancy, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2018-12-17 18:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11857368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janewahay/pseuds/Janewahay
Summary: To escape his stifling job at the Ministry of Magic, Tim Whistler accepts the position of Divination teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Soon realising that the school has drastically changed under the management of a new headmaster, the incompetent Professor Brittas, Tim soon finds himself regretting his decision.Faced with peculiar colleagues, rebellious students and tea leaves which simply won't cooperate, will his new relationship with the Charms Master, Gavin, be enough to keep him at Hogwarts?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NowWeOwnTheNight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NowWeOwnTheNight/gifts).



It was a lazy summer afternoon and Hogsmeade was quiet. The streets were empty and a distinct aura of tranquility lay about the place. All was silent.

There was a deafening crack.

A young man appeared in the middle of the street and, in a wild flailing of limbs, attempted to maintain his grip on a bulging leather suitcase and a cardboard box tucked under his arm. Anyone standing nearby would have heard a strangled swearword as he lost the struggle and the box crashed to the ground with the tell-tale sound of breaking china.

Dropping his other bag with a sigh, Tim Whistler withdrew his wand from his robes. With a brief wave his luggage rose a foot off the ground, wobbling slightly. Deciding to wait until later to assess the state of his tea-set, he took a moment to straighten his glasses and adjust his cloak, which had somehow been twisted backwards in the struggle, before heading up the familiar path to the castle, his belongings following close at his heels.

It was mid-August and the weather was as warm as Tim had ever experienced at Hogwarts. He was used to Hogsmeade being covered by a thick layer of snow but now there was just the lightest dusting on the familiar buildings. As he walked out of the village he even began to feel as though his cloak was unnecessary.

He rounded a bend in the path and found himself at the entrance to the school grounds. It was strange for him to see it so empty, having never had cause to visit outside of term-time. The lake was still and peaceful and the grass leading up to the entrance of the castle was empty of students.

Tim, never one for nostalgia, found himself feeling strangely emotional as he took in the familiar scene. It had been six long and exhausting years since he had left the school as a young man, eager to make his way in the world, absolutely certain that his new job at the Ministry would offer adventure and excitement. It hadn’t, of course; rather, it had brought him stress and anxiety as he worked in a cramped office to churn out predictions that, more often than not, ended up servicing the needs of some politician’s campaigns rather than anything Tim would describe as ‘useful’. Now, back at Hogwarts after all these years, he found that he had missed it.

Looking at the castle he saw, from a distance, one of the main doors open and two figures step outside. The taller of the two, dressed in dark blue robes, gave him an excitable wave before hurrying in his direction, the other trailing behind. He quickly recognised the figure as Professor Brittas, the headmaster.

He held out his hand as he approached Tim.

“Mr Whistler, how wonderful to see you again,” he said with a broad smile, grasping his hand firmly. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you have decided to join us here at Hogwarts.”

Tim smiled politely. “I am very grateful that you considered me, Professor.”

It was true. When Brittas’ letter had turned up on his desk at the Ministry, it had been a bit of a godsend. What could be a better change of scene than to switch his cramped office and the bureaucrats breathing down his neck for the open grounds of Hogwarts? To be fair, he had never really considered teaching as a profession but the more he thought about it, the more appealing it had seemed. The opportunity to share his love of Divination with a class of eager students? To convince others of Divination’s validity as a branch of magical study, when so many looked down on it? He found it very tempting indeed.

Brittas had come to meet him at his Ministry office shortly after he replied. The man had seemed overly cheerful and rather irritating and he found that the constant nasally voice eventually got on his nerves. Despite that, he seemed pleasant enough and certainly not _unpleasant_ as many of the men Tim currently worked with were. It hadn’t taken much convincing for Tim to accept the position.

The other figure had caught up to them. She was wearing impeccably neat emerald-green robes in stark contrast with the untidiness of her blonde hair.

“Ahhh yes!” exclaimed Brittas. “I haven’t introduced you. Timothy, this is my lovely wife, Helen.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Tim with a polite smile.

Helen opened her mouth to speak, but Brittas got there before her.  
“She’s potions master here, you know. Very talented, _very talented_. She’s quite remarkable with her potions, always experimenting on top of her teaching _and_ fulfilling her duties as head of Slytherin. Quite a remarkable woman, I don’t know how she does it!”

Behind him, Helen gave Tim a long-suffering smile. Tim had the feeling that Brittas was the sort of person to talk continuously without the thought (or perhaps simply without noticing) that others may wish to contribute.

He continued to prattle on in the same manner as he led the way back to the castle. Stepping through the main doors, Tim saw that the entrance hall was dark, the only light coming in through the high windows. He supposed the house elves didn’t bother lighting the braziers between term-time with so few people in the castle. They headed towards the main staircase.

“Why don’t I give you a tour?” beamed Brittas, as though it was the most delightful suggestion in the world and not, as Timothy thought, an excruciatingly tedious waste of time. “I’m sure you liked to get better acquainted with the castle. It has been a long time since you were last here, of course!”

“Perhaps, Gordon,” suggested Helen, “Timothy would like to deposit his luggage before traipsing around the castle?”

“Now, why didn’t I think of that! Isn’t she wonderful? Brains as well as beauty, eh?” he said to Tim, smiling indulgently.

Tim forced himself to smile back. He decided he didn’t like Brittas very much.

 

They climbed upwards through the castle in the direction of the North tower, Brittas blathering on about his time in the Department of Magical Education and his first teaching position many years previous. They eventually arrived at a door at the bottom of the stairs leading to the Divination classroom.

“Here we are, Timothy!” said Brittas.

Tim followed him inside. The room was of a comfortable size, certainly bigger than his flat in London. There was a four-poster bed, reminiscent of his Slytherin dormitory from years ago, a small table and several chairs, a chest of drawers and a desk beneath a small window with a view of the lake. It was all rather cosy.

He flicked his wand and his luggage landed on the floor with a thump. He winced as he heard the sound of obviously broken china clinking in its box.

“It seems very comfortable,” he said.

“Eeeexcellent,” said Brittas in his nasally voice. He clapped his hands together. “Now that’s sorted, we can do that tour!”

Tim looked at him in alarm. He wasn’t going to have to spend all day listening to this man talk, was he?

“Gordon,” said Helen, picking up on his panic, “didn’t you say you had a letter to write to the Minister? Besides which, I’m sure Tim is tired from his journey.”

“You’re right my darling, of course. I had completely forgotten about it!” said Brittas. “I’ll leave you to get settled then, Timothy.” He turned on his heel and left.

“Thank you” mouthed Tim to Helen. She gave him a weary smile, and closed the door behind her.

He let out a sigh. At last, some peace and quiet! As he reached to unclasp his cloak, there was a knock at the door. Warily, Tim opened it to reveal a smiling Brittas.

“One last thing, Timothy. We’re having just a little bit of trouble with the house elves at the moment. I’m sure it’ll all be sorted soon but for dinner tonight you’ll have to go to the kitchens directly or, failing that, The Three Broomsticks.”

“Thank you, Professor,” he said, and closed the door without waiting for further reply.

Turning back to the room, Tim removed his cloak and braced himself for the laborious task of unpacking.


	2. Chapter 2

Tim had spent the remainder of the afternoon unpacking his belongings. As he had expected, his tea-set was in pieces, but he easily fixed it with a wave of his wand. Amazingly, his crystal ball had remained intact.

Contrary to what Brittas had said, when he eventually wandered down to the kitchens, the house elves were nothing but polite, their enthusiasm unchanged from his days as a student. He left the kitchens carrying far more food than he could be reasonably expected to eat on his own. Tim began to suspect that the so-called strike applied only to Brittas himself. He couldn’t say he blamed them, if that _were_ the case.

Now, the following day, feeling refreshed and marginally less anxious, he decided to take time to reacquaint himself with the castle.

He wandered up to the divination classroom (“his classroom!” he told himself excitedly). He took a deep breath as he opened the door at the top of the stairs, breathing in the familiar smell of incense and musty furniture. The fire was already blazing in its grate casting a warm glow across the otherwise dark room. He reminded himself to thank the house elves.

Tim drew the curtains open, flooding the room with sunlight. He looked around. The classroom hadn’t changed much since his student days. The shelves lining the walls were stuffed with books, candles and general magical miscellany. There was a pair of cabinets, one stuffed with mismatched tea-sets and bits of chipped porcelain, the other with old, cracked crystal balls. The floor was strewn with cushions and quilted throws. Amongst the general litter were clusters of round tables with ill-assorted chairs. Tim loved it – it felt far friendlier that the uniform lines and spartan decor of the other classrooms. The room was completed by a large wooden desk and an inviting-looking armchair.

He settled in it with a sigh. It _was_ very comfortable. Combined with the heat from the fire, he imagined it would be very easy to fall asleep mid-lesson. Even as that thought crossed his mind, his eyes began to drift closed.

There was a knock at the door.

Tim sat up straight, his eyes open, and looked towards the entrance. Professor Brittas was standing in the doorway.

“Aaaahhh, Timothy, glad I found you. How are you settling in?”

Tim forced a smile. “Very well, Professor. It’s very comfortable.”

“Did you manage to find something to eat last night?”

“Yes, I got something from the kitchens.” A great many somethings actually, he thought to himself. “The house elves were perfectly pleasant.”

“Hmmm,” said Brittas, furrowing his brow. “Funny, they seemed rather unruly last time I checked. Must be a slight misunderstanding on their part, I’ll deal with it later.”

Tim nodded. “Is there something I can help you with, Professor?”

“I just thought I could offer my expertise to a new teacher. It is, of course, of vital importance to create a lesson plan that will optimise the student learning experience. Besides which, I studied divination myself back in the day so I’m sure I could-“

“That’s very kind of you, Professor, but I have it under control,” Tim said, his voice rising slightly in panic.

“Are you sure, Timothy? Obviously, you don’t have much experience in teaching so perhaps-“

“I’m _fine_ , Professor. Honestly.”

“Well, if you’re sure. If there’s aaaaanything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to talk to me.”

“Thank you, Professor,” said Tim through a pained smile.

“Eeeeeexcellent.”

With that, Brittas finally left him in peace.

* * *

Tim strolled through the quiet grounds. It was still summery, but there was a slight breeze that hinted at the coming cold. It was very peaceful. Tim took the time to enjoy it, knowing that in two weeks it would be filled with screaming students.

As he wandered past the greenhouses he heard something smash. Pausing to listen further, he made out the distinct sounds of a struggle coming from inside the one closest to him. He hurried inside. The inside of the greenhouse was humid and every inch of it was crammed with menacingly rustling plants.

At the opposite end, he saw an indistinct figure wrestling with what looked like a coil of living rope with a worrying number of teeth. As he watched, he saw a mossy green tendril snake up and attempt to wrap itself around the person’s neck.

“Please, Jeremy!“ said the figure as he managed to extricate his arm from the mess and shake a pair of secateurs at it sternly.

With reluctance, it withdrew its tendril enough for the man to untangle himself and back away.

Turning around, he started when he spotted Tim.

“Oh goodness me!”

The man was, Tim guessed, in his mid-forties and was possibly the dirtiest individual he had ever seen. He was wearing muddy brown robes that may have once been blue. A matching hat sat crookedly on his head. His face was covered in grime, out of which two wide, slightly manic eyes shone.

 

_(Art by the wonderful[NowWeOwnTheNight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NowWeOwnTheNight))_

“I’m sorry I startled you!” stammered Tim apologetically.

“Oh it’s quite alright. You must be the new divination teacher! Professor Brittas mentioned you were arriving early,” the man said, moving towards Tim.

“Colin Weatherby,” he said, extending his hand.

Tim shook it. As he released it, he glanced down to see something green and unpleasantly slimy smeared across his palm. Grimacing, he looked around for something to wipe it on.

“Tim Whistler. I didn’t realise that any of the other teachers had arrived yet.”

“Oh I haven’t arrived at all. I’m what you would call a ‘permanent resident’,” Colin replied, completely unware that “Jeremy” had dragged itself over and was now tearing the hem of his robes to shreds.

“You live in the castle?” Tim said, leaning slightly to look at the creature.

“That’s right, Tim. I can’t well leave my plants uncared for, can I? I mean, the mandrakes alone-”

“Uhm, sorry,” said Tim, interrupting, “but I think that…uh.” He gestured vaguely at the plant.

“Oh for goodness sake, Jeremy,” said Colin, swatting it away. It retreated, sulkily, to its pot. “He’s a wee bit tetchy at the moment. It’s flowering season and I haven’t managed to find a female for him to pollinate. Always leaves him a bit high-strung – he doesn’t mean anything by it.”

Tim decided to take him at his word.

* * *

Colin, as it turned out, was very easy to talk to but Tim began to feel that the plants surrounding them seemed to be edging closer. Making his excuses, he headed back to the castle. He spent the rest of the morning wandering around the castle, getting to know the place again. He found it strange how every corridor seemed to bring back some memory. It wasn’t long before he found himself in the dungeons. Of course, as a Slytherin student, he had spent a lot of time there.

Hearing movement from one of the dungeon classrooms, he stuck his head around the door. Helen was leaning over a bubbling cauldron, her hair hanging worryingly close to the brew. He cleared his throat.

Helen looked up and smiled. “Hello, Tim. What are you doing here?”

“Just getting to know the castle again.” He moved further into the room.

She turned back to her cauldron.

“Uhm…” said Tim. “I wanted to thank you for convincing Professor Brittas to give me some peace yesterday.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said, not looking up. “I know Gordon can be rather difficult at times.”

“Hmm.”

“He really does care about this school, you know. He has a dream. It’s just-“  
 She looked up from her cauldron and sighed. “He’s not the best at reading people.”

Tim grimaced. “I did notice that.”

“Don’t worry, when term starts he’ll be too busy with the usual disasters to pester you that much.” She gave the potion a stir.

“That’s a reli- hang on, what do you mean disasters?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing.”

Her smile wasn’t _quite_ convincing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!! My goodness, it's been a while. At long last, here is the next chapter! I'm hoping I'll be posting this more regularly in the next few weeks while I have some time off. Hope you all enjoy <3

Over the next few days, other members of staff began to trickle into Hogwarts and the castle started feeling slightly less empty. The school nurse, Carole, arrived just two days after Tim did. She was a kind, motherly woman who had the alarming tendency to start crying at the drop of a hat. She immediately started fussing over him, telling him he was too pale and needed to eat more (although the house elves had seen to it that he always ate too much). He often had tea with her in her office while her young son, Ben, sat in the darkness under the tablecloth.

“Oh Timothy, I’m so glad you decided to join us. Professor Brittas was having such trouble finding a replacement Divination teacher,” she told him one afternoon.

 “Why, what happened to the last one?” Tim said, wincing slightly. Under the table, he felt Ben attempting to eat his shoe. Gingerly, he tried to nudge him away with his other foot.

“Oh, just a misunderstanding between him and Professor Brittas. I don’t know why he reacted that way. I mean, it was hardly the Headmaster’s fault that Cockatrice escaped. Anyway-” she continued, completely missing Tim’s look of alarm, “if you hadn’t accepted his offer, he would have had to teach Divination himself.”

Ben seemed to have taken offense to Tim’s attempt to extract his foot and was now attached firmly to his ankle. Tim tried to shake him off, only half paying attention to the conversation.

“I’m sure he’s capable of it – he’s such a talented wizard,” Carole continued, blissfully unaware of the skirmish taking place under the table, “but he’s already so busy with his duties as Headmaster. There’s always something to do and the students hardly make it easy for him. Why, just last year…”

Despite Carole’s assurances that Brittas was a supremely capable Headmaster and could handle anything that the students, staff, and local wildlife threw at him, Tim couldn’t help feeling slightly panicked. Though the other teachers didn’t seem to admit it, disaster seemed to follow Professor Brittas wherever he went. He kept hearing stories of the previous few years at Hogwarts and some of the many catastrophes that had occurred. Tim began to regret his decision to teach at Hogwarts, especially after introducing himself to the owner of Honeydukes. She had clutched at him tearfully and urged him to leave while he still could.

Tim felt slightly better about it with the arrival of Laura, the Transfiguration teacher and deputy headmaster. He was relieved that there was at least one other member of staff that was relatively sane. She instantly earned his respect when he saw her diffuse a very uncomfortable situation between Professor Brittas and a visiting ministry official. Tim had wondered in the past week how Hogwarts was able to function with such an incompetent man at the helm - now he felt that he understood.

Two more women arrived the day after Laura, arriving on broomsticks from the direction of the Forbidden Forest. The shorter of the two, who introduced herself as Linda, looked like she had walked straight off the Quidditch pitch which, as he promptly found out, she probably had. She was the Quidditch teacher and head of Gryffindor and though she was slightly manic in her enthusiasm, she certainly seemed to be very experienced. She talked Tim’s ear off about her time playing with the Holyhead Harpies as he walked with the pair to the castle. Tim found himself struggling to stay on top of the conversation. He’d never enjoyed Quidditch. His one experience with flying nearly fourteen years earlier had ended abruptly with a broken collarbone and he hadn’t felt the need to repeat the experience.

Linda’s companion, Julie, had curly dirty-blonde hair and a perpetually bored expression. Tim liked her almost immediately. She seemed to be the only member of staff that was able to speak with complete honestly (some might say rudeness) to the headmaster. On her first day back, Tim witnessed Professor Brittas asking her to fetch a sheet of parchment. She had told him to get it himself and went back to polishing her wand, feet on the table. She was also an _unbelievable_ gossip. Over the course of a single afternoon, she had got him up to date on the most dramatic Brittas disasters of the previous year – how the resident poltergeist packed up and left when he saw that Brittas was doing his job _for_ him, the time when Brittas almost got eaten by the giant squid (despite it usually being a very amenable creature) and one occasion that she would only refer to as “The Flobberworm Incident”. She was the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and, despite her demeanour, Carole assured him that she was one of the best teachers they had.

As the rest of the staff arrived, most of whom looked how Tim felt (pale, anxious, and on the lookout for impending disaster), Tim settled into a daily routine – a routine that was often upset by the comings and goings of Professor Brittas. Tim made a habit of getting up early - he knew he needed to get used to it before the students arrived. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and occasionally still wearing his pyjamas, he would walk up the stairs to the divination classroom and make his first cup of tea for the day. Since his sixth year at Hogwarts, Tim had made a habit of making a cup of tea first thing in the morning and doing a quick reading of his tea leaves. As he had had to explain to numerous Ministry officials over the years, Divination was a very…indeterminate art. His morning tea leaves could never tell him precisely what would happen to him that day, but over the years he had grown accustomed to finding vague patterns which could at least give him hints. Tim had always been a rather anxious person so being able to make these vague predictions gave him a sense of safety as he ventured out into the nightmare that was daily life. Because of this, he often found himself not being surprised when things happened around him. The day seemed to slot into place. For these first two weeks at Hogwarts, the leaves had been behaving slightly differently than before which was to be expected with such a dramatic change in circumstances. They hinted towards more unfortunate accidents than he was used to, but he supposed that was a side effect of being in the company of Professor Brittas.

This is why, on this particular morning, when he glanced casually into his teacup he nearly dropped it in shock. Clutching the cup in both hands, he stared into it. The tea leaves seemed to stare back. There was no denying what he saw - at the bottom of the cup were three unbelievably clear shapes, not a single tealeaf out of place. The heat rose in his cheeks as he recognised them. Slamming the teacup down on the desk he hurried over to the shelf and pulled out his old, dog-eared copy of _Unfogging The Future_. He flicked through until he found the page he was looking for, muttering under his breath as he looked up each symbol;

_The Gate – Opportunities_  
_The Sun – Happiness_  
_The Swan – Good luck and success in romantic ventures_

Tim scowled. Betrayed by his own tea leaves! This kind of clarity never happened and his leaves had never pointed towards something so…domestic. Romance? It seemed rather unlikely. If it had been pain and suffering he may have been a tad more convinced. Surely there was some kind of magical interference – maybe Julie was practicing a new spell? Yes, that must be it. Angrily dumping the contents of the cup into the bin, he picked up the teapot to make another. That would settle the matter.

There was a knock at the door. Steeling himself for yet another confrontation with the incessantly annoying headmaster, he turned towards the door and was surprised when he found himself facing a complete stranger.

The man standing in the doorway was wearing black robes over what were obviously muggle jeans. He was, Tim guessed, a few years older than him, with short, dark hair and kind blue eyes.

“Sorry to bother you,” he said. “My name’s Gavin, I’m the Charms Master and I-”

“Can you charm my door?” interrupted Tim.

“Sorry?” said Gavin, looking rather confused.

“Can you charm my door?” he repeated, gesturing to the offending article. “Charm it to stop that complete…” he stopped himself from finishing that sentence.  
“To stop our…esteemed Headmaster from coming here quite so regularly?”

“Ah.” Gavin broke into a smile. “You have no idea how many times I’ve been asked that.”

“Oh.” Tim cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, that was very rude of me to interrupt you.”

“It’s quite alright, I just wanted to introduce myself. And, to be honest, you seem to be adjusting to Brittas better than some of the other new staff members.”

“I doubt that. Apparently, he took a year of Divination over twenty years ago and thinks that makes him the ideal person to ‘help’ me with my lesson plan.”

Gavin smirked slightly. “I shouldn’t worry about it. He does that to all the teachers. It’ll settle down soon – he’ll be far too busy when term begins.”

There was a slight pause. Tim noticed he was still holding a teapot.

“Uhm…would you like some tea?”

* * *

Gavin, as it turned out, was perhaps the most normal person Tim had met so far at Hogwarts. They easily fell into conversation as they drunk their tea.

Apparently, Gavin had also studied at Hogwarts – he was in his seventh year just as Tim began his first. He wanted to teach immediately after he left Hogwarts, but was considered unqualified for the position. Since his mother was a muggle, he decided to spend several years at the Muggle Relations office instead. When Brittas became headmaster, he was finally able to return to Hogwarts as a teacher.

In turn, Tim told him about his miserable time at the Ministry and Brittas’ unexpected offer of employment. He quickly found that he was able to talk to Gavin very easily, and was soon expressing his concern about Brittas and the disasters he kept hearing about.

Gavin did his best to put him at ease. He’d been teaching under Brittas for four years and was well used to his eccentricities. He was quick to assure him that while there were a fair few disasters, the rest of the staff were more than capable of keeping up with them.

“The best thing to do if something goes wrong is not to tell him. Just get him out of the way and let Laura deal with it.”

Tim nodded. Laura did seem to know what she was doing.

“Anyway, I’d best be going. I’m a bit late organising my lessons for this term,” said Gavin, finishing his tea and beginning to rise to his feet.

“Oh right, of course.” Tim glanced at the clock; he hadn’t realised how much time had passed. He really had enjoyed their conversation and found himself wanting get to know Gavin better.

“You’re welcome to come back!” he found himself saying. “I mean, for tea. If you’d like.”

Gavin smiled warmly. “I’d like that very much, Tim.”

* * *

Tim stared after him a for few seconds after he left before draining his own cup. Looking down, he saw three familiar symbols. If he didn’t know better, he’d say they were looking rather smug.


End file.
